Come In
by trilesforever
Summary: Miles tries to repair his splintered relationship, but he's not the only one with a secret. Triles.
1. Chapter 1

"So it turns out being trapped in a fire makes you starving, wanna go grab some food together?"

"You guys go ahead, I'll catch up with you, there's just something that I have to go do first."

Miles walked back to his car, his head reeling with the day's events. He fumbled with his keys before managing to get the door unlocked as he recounted the confrontation with his father. It was nice to have his siblings on his side for once, but what did that mean for them? And why didn't he feel happier? That was a stupid question, he knew why.

The drive over was a blur, Miles didn't even remember how he got there, but once he pulled up in front of the house he couldn't find the strength to open the door, his arms felt like lead. He had no right to be there, he shouldn't have even come. So he sat there, hours passed, yet he could not get himself to move save to text his siblings to let him know that he was ok. He watched as the sun went down and a light rain began, breaking the silence. As much as it pained him, he knew he owed him an explanation, even if Miles wasn't sure he was strong enough to give him one.

Hit with a sudden wave of resolve, Miles got out of the car, feeling the rain fall on his back as it began to fall more steadily. The walk from his car to the front door felt far longer than he had remembered, yet when he was faced with the door he felt his resolve shake, and had an all too familiar urge to flee. But he couldn't let himself do that to him, not again.

He raised his hand and gave three timid knocks on the water slicked door.

After what felt like an eternity, he heard the lock and saw the doorknob turn, a tall blonde figure replacing the black door. He looked into those eyes that had once glowed with life, now cold and uninviting, betraying only a small glimpse of surprise before darkening with anger, the usual bright blue stormy and dark. Tristan shook his head in disbelief that Miles had the nerve to show up at his house, shutting the door only to be stopped by Miles as he pushed on the door with one hand in an effort to keep it open.

"What do you want?" Tristan asked, his voice hard and emotionless.

"I-I just," Miles stuttered. He knew that Tristan would be mad, he had every right to be. But somehow he hadn't expected this.

"I know that this isn't enough and that I can never make up for all of the hurt that I've caused you but please Tris, I want to try."

Tristan's eyes betrayed him, flashing with hurt and anger, but he remained silent.

Miles shifted in place, water dripping from his bangs unto his face.

They stood in silence, all the unspoken words swirling around them in the cold, wet air.

Miles looked up, his eyes pleading.

"Tris, I'm sorry."

Tristan looked into Miles' eyes, seeing how they yearned for forgiveness. He felt his heart ramming against his chest, unable to contain all of the emotions that were coursing through his veins. He wanted to slam the door in his face, to make him hurt as much as he was hurting, but he knew that he could never hurt Miles, he was weak, he always gave into the part of him that wanted to believe that people could change, that they were good.

Tristan stepped aside and opened the door.

"Come in."


	2. Chapter 2

Breathing a sigh of relief, Miles stepped across the threshold, hearing Tristan close the door behind him. Miles looked around, taking in his surroundings. This was the first time that he had actually been inside his house, having only ever come to Tristan's house to pick him up. The house was nicely furnished but looked somewhat neglected, old newspapers and dirty clothes scattered everywhere. Nonetheless, it was a far better alternative to his house.

Miles followed Tristan down the hallway and into the living room. Tristan stopped abruptly and turned on his heels, crossing his arms across his chest and looking at Miles expectantly.

Miles looked down, playing with the edge of his jacket as he began to speak.

"Look I never liked Maya, I only let you think that because I thought-no I know- that I don't deserve you. I am always pushing people away, I don't want to, I don't want to be alone, but I couldn't drag you down with me."

Miles paused, looking up at Tristan, hoping to find comfort, but was instead met with a cold, harsh glare.

"Well what changed?" He asked, unrelenting in his stony demeanor.

Miles swallowed, steeling himself for what he was going to say next.

"My dad, he hits me. He didn't used to but after that article came out about him being homophobic things changed. He had tried to save his campaign by manipulating me, again, and when I didn't play into his game, he slammed me against a picture frame. Things were pretty bad for a while but Frankie and Hunter finally opened their eyes and saw him for the bully that he really is- they finally stood up to him, and I'm not alone anymore."

His words hung in the air, filling the space between them, exaggerating the silence. And then suddenly there was no space between them.

Tristan wrapped his arms around Miles. Miles faltered for a moment, surprised at this sudden change in attitude, but then quickly wrapped his arms around Tristan's waist.

The two boys stood there for what had felt like an eternity, or perhaps it was just a few minutes, clinging on to one another, not wanting to be the first to let go.

"You were never alone, Miles," Tristan whispered, his voice barely audible, yet Miles could hear the pain in it.

Tristan finally pulled away, and Miles could see the anguish that had replaced the anger splayed across his face.

"You should have told me, I could have helped, I could have been there for you. Why didn't you trust me Miles?" Tristan wasn't trying to hide his hurt anymore, and Miles' heart ached as he watched a tear make its way down his face.

Miles stepped forward, taking Tristan's hand into his own, ignoring Tristan's flinch at the unexpected touch.

"I was wrong and I'm so sorry Tris, is there anything I can do to make you forgive me?"

Now it was Tristan's turn to look down. Slowly he shook his head, and Miles' heart dropped.

"I want to forgive you," Tristan said in a small voice, looking back up at Miles to see that his eyes were glistening with tears as well.

The hurt and pain and desire permeated the already thick air. Miles took another tentative step forward, closing the little space that the two boys had maintained between each other. Miles could feel Tristan's hot breath on his face, and before the other boy had a chance to react, he leaned in and kissed him.

The kiss was slow and gentle, full of uncertainty and doubt. However, instead of pulling away, Tristan kissed Miles back, fiercely. The kiss full of hurt and anger and all the things that he should have said but couldn't. They pressed their bodies together, their tears mixing with one another's. Miles let go of Tristan's hand to pull him even closer by the waist, as Tristan tangled his hand in Miles' wet hair. Miles began moving forward, pushing Tristan up against the wall.

Tristan broke the kiss.

"I, we- can't do this."

"But-", Miles started but then stopped himself. He had no right to do this, not after everything that he had done to Tristan.

Miles nodded, heading towards the door.

Just as he was about to open the door he heard a soft sigh behind him.

"I just need some time, ok?"

For the first time that night, Tristan saw a smile ghost Miles' lips.

"I'll wait as long as it takes."

Miles stepped out into the night, closing the door behind him.

Tristan leaned his back against the door, sliding down until he was on the ground and let his tears fall freely.


	3. Chapter 3

Tristan heard a car pulling up into the driveway, signaling that his mom had returned. He pulled himself up, his legs shaking as he made his way up the stairs. He had just crawled into his bed as the front door opened.

"I'm home," his mom yelled as she shut the door and dropped her bags.

Tristan didn't respond, unable to find the strength within himself to answer. The quiet stretched out, filling the house with an uncomfortable stillness. After several minutes of silence passed, he could hear the unmistakable sounds of his mother's footsteps making their way up the stairs.

"You know an- are you ok?" His mother looked down at Tristan in concern, seeing his swollen eyes.

"I'm fine mom, just tired," Tristan lied, wincing as he heard how pathetic his hoarse voice sounded in response.

Deciding not to push the topic, his mom lent over and kissed his forehead, turning off the lights on her way out of his room.

Suddenly exhausted, Tristan closed his eyes.

_At least there won't be any fighting tonight, since he's not coming home. _

Light washed over Tristan's face as he opened his eyes, still sore from last night. He lay there, not wanting to get up, not wanting to face himself. He heard his phone buzz and rolled over, reaching for it off his nightstand.

He felt his heart clench as he saw that Miles had sent him two messages.

**Tris, I'm really sorry. **

**Pls forgive me. **

Tristan stared at the screen, his instinct to text back, but even if he could find any words to say, he shouldn't. He pulled back the covers and got up, placing his phone back on the nightstand as he exited his room, going into the bathroom.

Not ready to face his reflection, he peeled off his clothes and stepped into the shower, turning it on and feeling the cold water fall onto his face.

After he finished, Tristan got out of the shower, wrapping a towel around himself before he finally turned around to face full-length mirror. Tired, slightly red eyes stared back at him. His pale skin, bland hair- he stopped himself before his eyes could travel any further down.

_Things couldn't go on like this, something has to change. _

His eyes scanned the bathroom, looking for something, anything, until they landed on a box of brown hair dye, probably his mom's.

It wasn't exactly the change that he had had in mind, but it's a start.

Trying his best to appear confident, Tristan strode up the stairs and entered the school, reaching his locker as the warning bell rang.

"Nice hair," a voice commented beside him. Tristan turned, seeing Miles leaning against a locker, his voice full of its customary cockiness, but the uncertainty swimming in his eyes exposed him.

"Thanks," Tristan muttered, grabbing a book at random and shutting his locker.

Miles looked down at his feet.

"Tris, I-" But he was cut off by the final bell and Tristan took the opportunity to walk away, quickly making his way to his classroom before Miles could say anymore, before he could make another mistake.

Tristan spent the entire hour dreading Chemistry. When the bell rang, he slowly pulled himself up, slightly shaking as he gathered his things. Tristan shook his head.

_Pull yourself together. _

He took a deep breath, full of a sudden conviction, put on his mask, and turned to go to the Chemistry lab.

Miles looked up from the textbook that he had been feigning interest in as he heard the chair next to him being pulled back. Tristan busied himself with something in his book bag, ignoring Miles as he felt his eyes on him. However, he had to look up when the teacher walked in, and Tristan couldn't help but look over at Miles. Their eyes met. Miles' heart ached as he saw the hardness in Tristan's once bright and inviting eyes. He had caused that, and he hated himself for it. Miles broke their gaze, looking down, ashamed.

He shouldn't have done that, Tristan scolded himself as he too turned away, looking up at the teacher, determined to at least maintain a semblance of his façade. But his mind was now whirring.

_Why would you do that? _

_Do you want him to pity you, is that why you can't look away? _

_Pathetic. _

The voices hissed at him, and he could feel his composure slipping.

Tristan got up suddenly, interrupting the teacher midsentence.

"Can I have a washroom pass?"

The teacher looked shocked at the unexpected interruption but handed him a pass, resuming her lecture as he gathered his stuff and rushed out of the classroom.


	4. Chapter 4

Miles watched Tristan's back as he fled the classroom. He shifted in his seat, wanting to go after him, but unsure of whether he should.

Tristan sped down the hallway, pushing open the door to the nearest bathroom. He braced himself against the sink, his body shaking as tears began to stream down his face. He looked up, his tear-stained face staring back at him.

_weakstupiduglyfatworthlessuglypatheticstupidweakfatworthlessuglyweak _

Tristan looked away, unable to face himself anymore. He turned on the faucet, splashing his face with water.

Just then he heard the door open.

Miles walked in, stuffing a washroom pass in his pocket.

"Are you ok?" The concern in his voice echoing in the empty room.

"I'm fine," Tristan turned his back to Miles, grabbing a paper towel to dry his face.

"Please Tris, talk to me." Miles pleaded.

Tristan scoffed at the irony, as if Miles had ever confided in him when something was wrong. He turned around and walked past Miles, but Miles grabbed his arm, spinning him around to face him.

"Talk to me," He repeated more forcefully, but his expression softened when he saw the pain ripple through Tristan's face.

Tristan's stony front faltered, his eyes betraying him as he was caught off guard by the concern that Miles was showing for him, as he had never done so before.

He shrugged out of Miles' grip and left the bathroom, feeling himself begin to rip apart at the seams that he had so carefully put in place, as he hurried out of the building.

Tristan flung his book bag on the floor as he flopped onto his bed.

_Goddamit, you can't even make it through one school day. _

Tristan heard his phone buzzing, but he didn't have the energy to even check who it was.

He shut his eyes, his head pounding.

He hadn't realized that he had fallen asleep until he heard the front door open, indicating that his mom was home.

Tristan sat up, rubbing his eyes before trudging downstairs.

"Hey mom," he said, a fake smile plastered on his face.

"How was school?" She asked, trying to keep her tone light, but Tristan caught on to the edge of bitterness in her voice.

He sighed, "Is dad coming home today?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

His mom didn't say anything, just nodded as she walked into the kitchen and began putting away groceries.

"Dinner will be ready in an hour," she called after Tristan as he began heading back up the stairs.

"I already ate." He called back, smirking to himself.

_As if. _


	5. Chapter 5

Miles lay awake, waiting for his alarm to go off. He rolled over in his bed and grabbed his phone. Miles sighed and sent him another message before getting out of bed, knowing that he would be ridiculously early but he couldn't lay there anymore. Even though he had too much time, he was ready and downstairs with an hour to kill before school.

"Again, Miles, really? Are you sure you're not an imposter whose kidnapped my brother and trapped him in a dungeon?" Frankie came in and opened the fridge, looking back at Miles, who was swirling his spoon in the dregs of milk left in his cereal bowl.

"Ha ha, very funny", but Miles didn't even try to come up with a snide remark, continuing to stare into his empty cereal bowl, waiting until it was time to go to school.

"Seriously Miles", began Frankie as she pulled up a chair next to him, "All of this moping and watching Tristan from afar like a creepy stalker isn't you. Why don't you talk to him, or do something?"

Miles shook his head, "I can't, he asked for space and I told him I would wait."

"But it's been weeks, don't you think-"

"Just leave it ok?" Miles got up and sent another text before walking out of the kitchen.

Eyes glued to his textbook, Miles waited, tensing whenever someone walked into the classroom. Then he walked in. The smell of shampoo and citrus washed over him. But he couldn't look up, not yet. He waited, until the bell rang and class began to steal a glance. Tristan was looking forward with his usual determined expression, his body slightly angled away from Miles. Miles eyes raked over him, taking in how his light brown hair fell against his pale skin, how he had his arms folded, in front of him, everything. He knew that Tristan could feel him watching him, but he never said anything. The silence was painful, but Miles knew that it was better than seeing Tristan hurt. After their talk in the bathroom Miles hadn't approached him again, but god did he want to. The bell rang, and Miles looked away, playing by the unspoken rules that they had established.

Tristan gathered his things, slinging his bookbag over his shoulder as he left the room, knowing that Miles was watching. He smiled a little as he felt his phone buzzing but didn't answer it.

"So how was it?"

"Fine Zoe", Tristan replied, not even bothering to get annoyed anymore. This had become routine now.

"You guys are no fun", Zoe pouted.

"Well, not all of us can be Westdrive characters."

"Yeah whatever", Zoe linked arms with Tristan before launching into an in-depth analysis of her phone call with Zig last night as they walked to lunch.

Tristan tried to pay attention but his mind strayed as they neared the cafeteria.

"Are you even listening to me?" Zoe's exasperated tone startled Tristan. He looked up from his food that he had busied himself with cutting into small pieces.

"Um…"

"Tristan, it's been like 15 minutes since you've said anything!"

_15 minutes? Have I really been out of it that long? _

"Sorry Zo."

"Seriously, when are you two going to kiss and make up, cause' I'd really like to have my friend back."

"I'm fine." Tristan mumbled, resuming his task of cutting the chicken in his salad into little cubes.

"All of _this_ isn't fine." Zoe waved her arms in front of Tristan, commanding his attention.

"All of what?" Tristan froze, starting to get worried.

"All of this sulking and moodiness. Even in drama club you just sit in the back and don't really speak up."

"I did that skit…" Tristan trailed of, his body relaxing.

"Yeah ok, you did one 5 minute skit. You do remember that you used to like acting, right?"

Tristan opened his mouth to speak but Zoe kept going.

"I mean look at him", Zoe said, pointing her plastic fork across the cafeteria to where Miles was sitting with Maya, Frankie, and Winston, his back turned to Tristan and his head down.

"The both of you are just so sad. Just get over yourselves. You know that he wants you back, and you obviously want him back-".

Tristan gave a sigh of relief as the bell rang, saving him from having to fight yet another losing battle with Zoe.

As Tristan got up to throw away his tray of uneaten food, he looked back over at Miles.

Maya caught him looking and nudged Miles, who just shook his head sullenly.

Tristan followed Zoe out of the cafeteria as a voice rang out, carrying across the room.

"Tristan, wait!"


	6. Chapter 6

"Come on Miles, he just looked over here, now's your chance."

"Maya I-"

"Stop saying that you can't, just talk to him already."

"Tristan, wait!"

Before Miles even realized what was happening, his feet had carried him halfway across the cafeteria. He stopped, his sudden burst of confidence faltering.

But when Tristan turned around, Miles saw something in Tristan's eyes that he hadn't seen in weeks, _hope. _His usually cold, guarded glare had softened just a little, and seeing Tristan thaw gave Miles the strength to speak up again.

He took a few steps forward.

"Look I know that I said I would give you space but things just got really messed up and every day I rush to school just to be able to sit next to you and the silence Tris, the silence is killing me. I've sent you like a hundred messages and you never answer and I need you Tris. I know I'm selfish and I don't deserve you but I miss your smile and I miss your voice and I, I miss you."

The words rushed out of him, stumbling over one another, as if he had to get it all out before Tristan left again.

Tristan stared into Miles' eyes, searching for something.

"You say you want me and miss me, and I want to believe you Miles, but what will happen when something else goes wrong and you shut me out again?"

Miles began to protest but Tristan continued, his voice climbing as he spoke.

"What will you just run away to_ her _again? She's obviously a far better choice than me so why would you need me anyways?"

"It's not like that, we're just friends", Miles shouted back as Maya nodded her head fervently behind him.

"Please Tris, I'm so so sorry, and if you let me I'll spend every day proving it to you."

The tension in the cafeteria was thick, most people had already left, with just a few stragglers curiously watching. Maya, Winston, Frankie, and Zoe stood frozen in place, watching with bated breath.

"Why? Why do you even care? Why can't you just leave me alone?"

Miles gave an exasperated sigh.

"Because I love you, you idiot!"

And suddenly the space between the two boys was gone and Tristan had Miles' face in his hands, their lips crashing together. Miles put a hand on the back of Tristan's neck, pulling him even closer, gratefully melting into the kiss that his body had been aching for for so long. Tristan snaked one hand into Miles' hair, resting the other on his shoulder, welding their bodies together, never wanting to let go. The world around them slipped away and in that moment, nothing existed but them. When they finally broke apart, Tristan leaned into Miles, resting his forehead against his, slightly dizzy.

"I love you too", he breathed, his lips brushing up against Miles'.

"Um, guys, I hate to interrupt the moment but the bell rang like 5 minutes ago…"

"Seriously Winston, now is not the time." Frankie scolded him, grabbing her bag as the two of them turned to leave.

"Yeah, um, we really should get going." Maya walked over and pulled a reluctant Zoe out of the room.

"Why do I always have to miss all the fun?" Zoe whined as she and Maya disappeared down the hall.

Miles and Tristan broke away from one another, but Miles grabbed onto Tristan's hand, lacing their fingers together. Tristan looked down hesitantly at their interlocked hands, self-doubt beginning to creep up again.

_I'm not good enough. _

Tristan shook his head slightly, trying to ignore the biting voice.

"Tris?"

"Yeah?" Tristan met Miles' eyes, his heart melting at the look that Miles was giving him. God how he had missed that look.

"Thank you for giving me a second chance."

"Well, just don't screw it up," Tristan gave him a small smile as they began walking out of the cafeteria and to the greenhouse.


	7. Chapter 7

"Hey Tris, you awake?"

Tristan cracked open his eyes, rolling over to see the phone lying on his pillow. He smiled and picked it up.

"Hey."

"You sound cute."

"Ha ha. I can't believe we fell asleep on the phone."

"Yeah well," Tristan could hear Miles smiling.

"So uh, what're you doing today?"

"Miss me already?" Tristan taunted.

"Maybe…"

"Well I don't really feel like being at home so I was going to go the park today."

"The park?"

"There's this abandoned park near my house, its quiet," Tristan defended himself.

"Ok, I guess I'll meet you there in an hour."

Tristan tried to ignore the gnawing self-doubt that was beginning to threaten his momentary happiness, which was shattered a few minutes later when he heard his parents' voices rising from the kitchen as he got out of bed, averting his eyes from the mirror hanging on his closet door as he grabbed his clothes and headed to the bathroom. Tristan took his time, dreading having to go downstairs.

He walked slowly down the stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible, not wanting his parents to notice him, but as he reached for the handle he heard a voice bark at him.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Out." Tristan muttered, fixing his eyes on the wall behind his dad as he turned around.

"You know the school called us. Skipping, really? Do you want to end up like your brother, repeating a year?"

Tristan stayed silent.

"Don't be so hard on him, you know he's been having a rough time after his break up."

Tristan appreciated his mom defending him, but wished that she hadn't, because he knew all too well what was coming next.

"This is your fault you know, you baby him too much!"

His eyes trained on the wall, he stood fixed in place as another fight erupted.

"Screw this!" Tristan's dad spat as he stormed out of the house, the door closing with such a force that the house shook.

"Mom, are you ok?" Tristan stepped forward, placing a hand on his mom's shoulder.

"I'm fine, honey," her voice trembled as she walked quickly into the kitchen, wiping her face with the back of her hand.

"How about some breakfast?"

"I'm not really hungry."

"Please, we haven't had breakfast together in so long."

Tristan sighed, not wanting to upset his mom any further, as he nervously sat down at the kitchen table.

He watched his mom as she piled eggs and bacon on his plate. He shifted in his seat, wanting more than anything to bolt.

His mom placed the threatening plate in front of him. Tristan watched her as she sat down and began to eat. Chewing, swallowing, she made it look so easy, why couldn't he just be like that, why couldn't he just not care? But he did, so he just pushed around the food on his plate, cutting the eggs and bacon into small pieces with his fork. Thankfully, a few agonizing minutes later, her boss called, calling her into work.

Tristan waited until the door closed behind her to take his plate into the kitchen, watching the food as it went down the garbage disposal. But as he began walking out of his house towards the park, they began.

_Can't even eat breakfast with your mom? _

_You can't do anything right._

_Uselessweakpatheticfatweakuglystupidpatheticfatuseless _

Tristan tried to ignore the voices but they were unrelenting, torturing him the whole way.

"Hey!" Miles called out to Tristan, motioning for him to join.

"Hi," Tristan smiled weakly as he sat down in the swing next to him.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Tristan looked down, digging the toe of his shoe into the dirt.

Miles raised his eyebrows, "Come on Tris, I know you better than that."

"It's nothing… my, uh, my parents were just fighting."

Miles started to protest but Tristan cut him off.

"Can we just please not talk about this right now?"

Reluctantly, Miles nodded, he knew what it was like not wanting to talk about your home life.

A mischievous smile appeared on Miles' face.

"So, uh, what do you want to do then?"

Tristan caught onto Miles' tone and got up, glad for the distraction. He walked over to Miles, grabbing onto the chains of the swing, pushing him back until they were face to face.

"Oh I don't know," Tristan teased, his face getting closer to Miles' with every word.

Miles leaned forward, closing the space between them. Tristan wrapped an arm around Miles' waist, pulling him forward off the swing in an effort to get even closer as his other hand tangled in Miles' hair, tugging on it. Miles let out a soft moan as he began kissing Tristan with more force. Their tongues battled for dominance as they entangled themselves in each other, trying to get as close as possible. When they broke apart, both boys were breathing heavily.

"Well that's a lot better than talking," Miles panted, his face flushed.

Tristan smirked and brushed a few strands of hair out of Miles' eyes, "Told you."

"Want to go somewhere else?" Miles asked as he detangled himself from Tristan.

"Sure, where?"

"Um, how about the Dot?"

Tristan immediately tensed up.

"Why don't we just go back to your house?"

"Because Winston and Frankie are there and I really don't feel like watching them make out. Besides, I thought you loved lattes?"

"Right, yeah I do," Tristan agreed, not wanting Miles to get suspicious.

Tristan smiled at Miles as they walked to his car, but inside he was unraveling.


	8. Chapter 8

_Come on, get yourself together, it's only coffee. _

_There's food there. _

_That doesn't mean I have to have any. _

_But you will. _

_Because you're weak. _

_Pathetic. _

_Loser. _

_Loserweakuglypatheticfatloserweak- _

"Tris?" Miles nudged him, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"I asked you if- are you sure you're ok?" Miles' brow furrowed as he saw Tristan's broken expression.

"Um yeah," Tristan started walking faster, reaching for the handle of the passenger seat, but Miles stopped him, placing his hand on Tristan's shoulder and turning him around.

"Please just, look at me."

Tristan waited a few seconds before reluctantly meeting Miles' gaze. The deep, despair stricken eyes looking back at him took Miles aback. He caught his breath.

"Talk to me." Miles pleaded, his heart aching with desperation, the desire to help his boyfriend intensifying. He knew that Tristan had been acting weird since they got back together, one second he was happy and the next he was choking back tears, maybe he was still mad at him? But then why won't he talk? But Miles' pleas were only met with a barely audible whisper claiming that he was fine. Frustrated, Miles got in the driver's seat. The rest of the drive was spent in silence, despite Miles' continued efforts to try to get Tristan to talk. It was only when Miles pulled into the parking lot at the Dot that Tristan finally spoke.

"Thanks for caring," Tristan said, looking up at Miles for the first time since they got in the car.

"Always."

Tristan gave Miles a sad smile. Had Miles said this to him a few months ago, he would have teased him about how cheesy that was and listed every rom-com that had used that line, but now Tristan just stayed silent, tired.

He didn't even realize that he had gotten out of the car and was walking up the stairs towards the Dot until he opened the door and the smells hit him.

The sweet smell of sugar and bread and chocolate and everything that he wanted. He craved it. He needed it. But he couldn't. The bread would scratch his stomach and the milk would burn his throat. He wasn't meant for food. His stomach was clean and empty.

Tristan made a beeline for a table farthest away from the food, sitting down with his back to the counter.

He heard the chair next to him scratch against the floor as Miles sat down.

"So what are you in the mood for?"

"Oh I don't really want anything," came Tristan's automatic reply.

Miles gave him a quizzical look, "Are you sure…?"

"Um, yeah, I had a really big breakfast."

"Ok, well, I'll go get something to drink, be right back."

_God, why did I agree to come here? _

After what had felt like a few seconds, Miles returned to the table with two large vanilla lattes.

"I know you said you didn't want anything, but I know this is your favorite, I even had them put in some cinnamon for you." Miles said as he placed a drink in front of Tristan.

Miles fought back the urge to ask him if he was ok for the millionth time that day upon seeing Tristan visibly tense up. The awkward silence that hung between the two of them was broken when they heard a familiar voice call out for their attention.

"Hey Miles….Tris," Maya called out as she snaked her way through the tables towards the couple, dragging a reluctant Zig and Grace in tow.

"How are you?"

"We're ok, I guess," Miles looked over at Tristan, who seemed far too interested in his drink to acknowledge Maya.

"Can we?" Maya gestured to the empty chairs at the table.

Miles waited for Tristan to look up, giving him confirmation that it was ok, but Tristan remained unresponsive.

"Sure," Miles agreed. Zig began to protest but Grace grabbed his wrist and pushed him into a chair, her eyes daring him to complain. Miles just shook his head, he didn't have time to deal with whatever drama was going on there.

"So how are thin-," Maya stopped midsentence as her eyes fell on Tristan. His hands were gripping the sides of his chair, his expression unreadable as his head was hung over his untouched drink. She turned to Miles, her growing concern apparent.

"What's wrong with him?" Maya whispered, her forehead winkling as she saw Miles' dejected expression, but he just shrugged.

Tristan snapped his head up, suddenly realizing that they had company. He looked around, momentarily confused. The battle raging in his head subsided, momentarily being overtaken as he tried to figure out when Maya, Zig, and Grace had gotten here.

"Um hi," he muttered, embarrassed.

"That must be some drink you have," Zig chuckled.

"Huh?"

"You've been staring at it for nearly five minutes."

"Maybe he's looking for buried treasure," Grace snorted.

"Guys, don't," Maya shot them a look.

"It's fine, I was just, thinking," Tristan offered weakly.

Zig and Grace continued their banter despite Maya's disapproving glances. Tristan tried to keep up but his mind kept wondering elsewhere. The buzz of conversation filled his ears, the smells of coffee and baked goods swirled around him, the room began to go out of focus, he could feel himself slipping but he caught himself, grabbing the table to steady himself.

"Woah, are you ok?" Maya grabbed Tristan's arm.

"I'm just tired."

_Why can't people just stop asking me if I'm ok? No, I'm not ok. I'm never ok._

"Maybe we should get you home?" Miles suggested as he got up.

Tristan nodded, grateful for the escape, swaying a little as he rose from his own seat.

Miles grabbed Tristan's waist as he stumbled forward.

_Why does he waste his time with me? _

"Miles?" Tristan spoke up as they neared his car.

Miles stopped and turned to face Tristan, surprised to see a smile on his face. He had almost forgotten how much he missed that smile.

"Yeah?"

"I just…I love you," Tristan said shyly.

Miles couldn't help but smile as the butterflies in his stomach fluttered. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Tristan's lips before pulling him into his arms. The two boys just stood there, arms wrapped around each other, the sun beating down on their backs.

"I love you too," Miles whispered.


	9. Chapter 9

A light breeze ruffled Miles' hair as he sped down the road. He smiled as he felt Tristan tighten his hold on his hand. Miles looked over at Tristan, his hear turned away from Miles as he watched the trees and buildings passing by. Miles wanted to fell happy, content. But then he remembered where he was going and why, and his outlook darkened. Something was really wrong. Miles pulled up into Tristan's driveway and let go of his hand to take the key out of the ignition.

"My parents aren't home, do you want to come in?"

"Sure," Miles agreed as he got out of the car, trying to ignore Tristan's shaking hands as he reached for the door handle.

Miles rushed over to the car, opening the door for Tristan and offering him his hand.

"I'm fine," Tristan muttered, his face turning red. But he accepted Miles' hand nonetheless.

Tristan heard Miles say something as they reached the front door but he didn't respond, concentrating his energy on keeping his hand steady as he unlocked the door, not wanting to give him any more cause for concern.

_Can't even open a door properly. _

_Can't walk without falling over. _

_Pathetic. _

Miles watched Tristan's face flash with suppressed pain, but stayed silent, mostly because he knew that Tristan wasn't listening. He felt his forehead wrinkle with worry, lamenting how it would soon be permanently wrinkled. He led Tristan to the couch, taking note of how slowly he was moving compared to this morning. M pass by him. Mileaybe he was getting sick?

Tristan dropped to the couch, immediately curling up in the cushions.

"Are you cold?" Miles asked, sitting down next to him.

"Fine," Tristan repeated his mantra, but Miles saw him shiver slightly.

He looked around the room, spotting a large, blue and red checkered quilt thrown over an armchair. He leaned over and dragged it to the couch, draping it over Tristan.

"Thanks," A small smile ghosted Tristan's lips as he tightened the quilt around him, letting the gratifying warmth wrap around him.

"You're welcome."

"No really, I don't know what I would do without you."

"Well hopefully you'll never find out." Miles moved closer, draping an arm around Tristan.

"Wanna watch something?" Tristan asked, gesturing with his head at the remote.

"Sure," Miles chuckled at Tristan, who had cocooned himself in the blanket.

He turned on the T.V., flipping through the channels, finally settling on some talk show that was featuring a fashion model that Tristan liked. Tristan shifted on the couch, resting his head on Miles' shoulder. They stayed like that for what felt like hours.

Miles' attention drifted from the T.V. to Tristan, who had fallen asleep. He studied his face: how his dark eyelashes brushed against his cheeks, the way that his cherry lips were slightly parted, he looked so peaceful. But he also noticed his cheekbones, which were jutting out more prominently than before, and the dark circles that were cast under his eyes. Miles leaned down and pressed his lips on Tristan's head, taking in the citrusy scent of his shampoo.

The door flew open, banging against the wall, the startling noise echoing through the house. Tristan jolted awake, his eyes immediately darting towards the door. But as angry voices filled the entryway, his surprise was replaced with a sad recognition.

"Hi Mom, hi Dad." He said, his voice barely audible as he begun detangling himself from the quilt.

"Come on," Tristan grabbed Miles' wrist and led him up the stairs, a dull ache seeping into his chest.

Miles watched Tristan as he climbed the stairs, his shoulders hunched over, dejected. He wanted to rush over, sweep Tristan up in his arms, and hold him until everything was okay again, but he knew all too well that it didn't work like that. That it was now his turn to stand quietly by Tristan's side, to just be there for him.

"So, um, we can watch something on my laptop, I got some new movies that I've been meaning to see." Tristan walked towards his desk, shuffling around some DVDs, making it very clear that they were not to talk about his parents.

"Yeah, ok. What movies?" Miles walked over to Tristan, but stopped before he could finish crossing the room as he heard glass breaking, the sound cutting through the house like a knife. Miles saw Tristan wince at the sound as the DVDs slipped from his hand and fell back onto his desk. Miles made a step towards Tristan but he was already walking towards his door. Miles waited for Tristan to turn around, but his hand just remained gripping the doorknob of the now closed door.

Tristan tried to steady his shaky breath, not wanting to lose it for the umpteenth time, but it felt like these days he didn't have the energy to hold himself together. He felt a soft hand land on his shoulder. Slowly, he turns around to find Miles' green eyes staring back at him.

Silently, Miles brushed away a tear that had begun rolling down Tristan's cheek.


	10. Chapter 10

A bright light streamed through the window, indicating that it was morning, but Tristan had been awake for hours. He lay there, staring at his phone, watching the minutes go by until he had to get up and leave the safe haven of his bed. His whole body ached with fatigue, but he couldn't get himself to fall asleep. Miles was getting closer to the truth, he saw it in the way he looked at him. If he didn't get his shit together, he would soon find out how pathetic Tristan was, and then he would dump him all over again. Tristan squeezed his eyes shut, trying to banish the bad thoughts, but his head felt heavy with the malicious fog of self-deprecation that seemed to have taken up a permanent residence in his head, restlessly tormenting him.

The sounds of the refrigerator door opening and closing, followed by loud footsteps descending the staircase indicated that his parents were awake. Tristan let out a deep sigh and braced himself for the inevitable.

He dragged himself out of bed as his phone alarm rang and over to his closet. The unmistakable sounds of fighting rose from the kitchen as he pulled his arm through a red and white striped sweater. Tristan walked around his room aimlessly, trying to busy himself until he heard his phone ring.

He rushed over to his side table and picked it up.

**Here :) **

Tristan slung his bag over his shoulder and bounded down the stairs, eager to escape. He didn't even bother saying goodbye to his parents, knowing that they were too busy tearing each other apart to even realize that he was there, let alone acknowledge him.

Miles turned away from fixing his hair in the rearview mirror when he heard the front door open. He felt his heart beat a little faster as he saw Tristan emerge from his house. Why was he wearing a sweater when it was hot outside? His heart clenched when he saw Tristan flinch at a loud thud that came from inside his house. Miles watched Tristan as he made his way towards him, defeated, tired, like a skeleton of his former self. But as he came closer to the car, his eyes lifted from the ground and he saw a faint glimmer of happiness as he raised a corner of his mouth in an attempted smile.

"Hey, thanks for the ride."

"Anytime."

Miles shifted in his seat as Tristan sat down next to him.

"So, um, how are things with your parents?" Miles finally breathed out, his voice hinging on the last word, riddled with uncertainty.

"They're fi-"

"Don't you dare say fine," Miles interjected.

Tristan gave a shallow sigh, "Can we just please go?"

"But-,"

"Please," Tristan said in a small voice, turning away from Miles, his eyes watering as he heard the ignition start. He let Miles slip a hand into his, but didn't trust himself to face him, knowing that he wouldn't be able to hold it in if he looked into those worry-stricken eyes.

Tristan rested his elbow on his desk, leaning his head into his hand, trying to keep his eyes from closing as the teacher droned on. But the more he fought, the heavier he could feel his eyelids grow, he wanted so desperately to just sink into sleep and escape. But just as he was about to give into temptation, he felt a small hand shaking his shoulder, stirring him from his hazy, sleep-like state into the cold harshness that was his reality.

"What?" Tristan asked, annoyed at having been forced awake.

"Well the bell rang and unless you wanted to be left drooling on the desk…," Zoe gave Tristan a pointed look as she gathered her things.

"Right, um, thanks," Tristan rubbed his eyes and reached for his untouched bag.

"Is everything ok?" Zoe asked suddenly, spinning on her heels to face Tristan, her voice gentler than usual.

"Yeah, sure." Tristan tried to walk past her towards the exit but she stopped him, reaching out to block his path by stretching her hand across the aisle to the next row of desks.

"Zoe I really have to-"

"Go? Yeah I know, lately it seems all you have to do is go. I barely see you anymore and when I do you're too busy sleeping through class to talk. What is going on Tris? And don't say nothing 'cause I can see right through your bullshit." Zoe huffed out, crossing her arms across her chest.

_If only you knew. _

"I've just been busy lately, you know school stuff." But before Zoe could respond Tristan slipped past her, hurriedly walking out of the room.

Tristan rounded the corner of the hallway and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes, trying to shut out the buzz of voices swirling around him. He shouldn't have come to school, but his parents were working from home today and he really didn't want to be witness to yet another fight.

"Tris?" An anxious voice broke through the noise.

Tristan opened his eyes to see Miles' green ones watching him, clouded with uncertainty. He wished that Miles would stop looking at him like that.

"Hi." Tristan forced himself to smile.

"So, uh, let's go then," Miles gestured down the hall.

"Go where?"

"Lunch, or did you have other plans?" Miles asked, a bemused expression crossing his face.

"Right," Tristan nodded slowly as he pushed himself off of the wall and followed Miles to the cafeteria, his mind reeling.

_I can't go in there. _

_Miles is already getting suspicious. _

_I need a distraction. _

Tristan turned his head to look up and down the now empty hallway before slamming Miles against a row of lockers, descending on him so quickly that Miles just stood there, shocked at the sudden turn of events.

Miles relaxed into the kiss, letting Tristan overwhelm him as he raked his hands through Tristan's hair, pushing him closer. Tristan placed his hands on Miles' hips, joining their hips together. Miles could feel the blood rushing below his waist and pulled away, gasping for air.

"Uhm, maybe we shouldn't do this here." But when Miles saw Tristan's face, flushed with desire, he felt himself go weak at the knees.

"There's no one at my house, so if you want…" Miles let his voice trail off.

Tristan leaned in, licking up Miles' neck, sending shivers up his spine.

"I always want." Tristan purred into his ear.

He peeled himself off of Miles and the two began walking towards the parking lot. 

Miles lunged at Tristan as soon as he shut his bedroom door behind him, his body colliding with Tristan's with such a force that Tristan stumbled back, the backs of his knees hitting Miles' bed. They toppled over without breaking their lip lock. Miles pulled away, his nose rubbing up against Tristan's, their hot breath mixing together, the air between them thickening.

Miles sat up, straddling Tristan as he pulled off his shirt before leaning back down to scatter kisses all down Tristan's jawline, continuing down his neck. He brought his hands down to the hem of Tristan's shirt. He felt Tristan's body suddenly tense up, his hands darting down to grab Miles'.

Miles sat up, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-".

"It's not that I don't want to…just," Tristan moved from under Miles, crawling to the side of his bed.

"What is it?" Miles walked over on his knees.

Tristan just turned away and buried his head into a pillow.

"I just can't," Tristan whispered, his voice muffled by the pillow.

Miles watched Tristan lay there curled up on his bed, looking so different from the guy that threw him up against the lockers only an hour earlier. He looked so, _broken. _

Miles' heat radiated from his body as he enveloped Tristan in his arms, but despite Miles' added warmth pressing up against him, Tristan still shivered.

"It's ok," Miles whispered, pulling Tristan closer.


	11. Chapter 11

Miles walked into class, his eyes quickly scanning the lab before giving a dejected sigh and sitting down, his eyes flitting towards the empty seat next to him before reverting his gaze as he pulled his phone out and placed it in front of him.

"Hey," Miles turned around to face Winston.

"Hi," He greeted Winston, struggling to force a nonchalant attitude.

"I haven't seen you in a while, what's up?"

"Nothing," Miles answered, fighting the urge to grab his phone.

"How are things at home? Frankie said-"Winston stopped when he noticed Zoe strolling in. Miles quickly turned around, looking hopefully at his phone while Winston and Zoe bickered about their chemistry assignment. However, his phone screen remained black and empty, no new messages. But just as he was about to put away his phone, it lit up.

**Not coming, don't feel well. **

Miles' heart sank. He wished he was more surprised, but he had grown accustomed to this. Tristan hadn't been at school all week, and the weeks before he barely showed up, and when he did he was quiet and distant. At first, Miles had thought that it was because of what happened in his bedroom, but it became increasingly apparent that it was something else. Miles now had a better appreciation for how Tristan must have felt when he used to cut class. He tried to pay attention but his thoughts kept straying to Tristan, he hadn't seen him all week, and he knew Tristan asked him not to come over but…

His thoughts were interrupted by the bell. He hurriedly gathered his stuff, eager to leave the classroom and its gaping empty seat, not wanting to be reminded any more than he already was that Tristan wasn't there.

"In a hurry?" Frankie stood outside of the room, waiting for Winston.

Miles tried to walk past her but she moved in front of him, blocking his path.

"He wasn't here, was he?"

Miles shook his head sadly, his hand curling around the phone in his pocket.

"Why don't you just go and see him?"

"Because he said-"

"Since when have you listened to what you're supposed to do?"

Miles gave her a small smile, "Well maybe I'll just go to make sure he's ok."

"Good," Frankie moved aside, pleased with herself as she peered into the classroom to see what was taking Winston so long.

Miles gave a few tentative knocks, waiting to hear footsteps. After five minutes he heard the lock on the door click, but he wasn't prepared for what he found behind the door.

Tristan had a red and blue blanket wrapped around him, trailing on the floor behind him. He had dark circles under his eyes, his cheeks hollow, and his collarbone peeking out from under the blanket was jutting out too far, but what struck Miles most was his eyes. They looked so _empty_.

"What are you doing here?" Tristan asked, his voice hoarse from lack of use.

"Tris-I-What the hell is wrong with you?" Miles stepped forward, instinctually reaching out to hug Tristan, but he stepped back, tightening his blanket around him.

"You should go home Miles," Tristan continued backing up until his back hit the railing of the stairs.

"I can't leave you like this," Miles made to move closer to Tristan but he just shook his head in protest.

"Please, don't," Tristan's voice cracked, making Miles' insides constrict.

He stood frozen as he watched Tristan move to the couch, so slowly and lethargically that he gave off the impression of a ghost. His legs felt like lead when he finally followed Tristan, trying to process what he had just witnessed. What was going on? Why did he look like that? How did he not realize that things were so bad? Questions swam in his head, his worry intensifying. Miles' eyes still on Tristan, he sat on the couch next to him, watching with bated breath to see if he would stay.

"Talk to me," Miles pleaded, "Let me help you".

"I don't need any help, I'm fine." Tristan insisted, refusing to face Miles.

"Like hell you are. Look at you!" Miles could hear his voice rising, but he couldn't help it. Why won't Tristan let him help? He was tired of this vague and distant guy, he wanted his boyfriend back.

Tristan finally turned to look at Miles, his eyes wide with shock at the sudden anger in Miles' voice.

"Everything is fine Miles," Tristan lied unconvincingly.

"I'm not an idiot, I know everything isn't _fine_," Miles spat.

Tristan extracted a frail hand from under his blanket and rested it on Miles', his icy hand sending chills up Miles' arm.

"What is going on, Tris?" He said, his voice growing softer.

Miles' words hung in the air, the hollow silence between the two boys stretching out endlessly. Miles could hear his heart beating in the silence along with Tristan's shallow breath.

"You're reading too much into this," Tristan finally spoke.

Miles looked at Tristan in disbelief, was he really supposed to buy that? Tristan's eyes pleaded with him to accept his excuse, to continue pretending that everything was ok, but he couldn't do that anymore, he had let this go on for too long. He could feel the anger building as he stood up.

"You know, I've tried to stand back and not say anything but I can't stay silent when I see you wasting away before my eyes!" Miles shouted.

A flicker of anger flashed in Tristan's eyes as he rose to meet Miles.

"Well if you feel that way, then leave." Tristan voice strained as he tried to meet Miles' volume, but failed.

"What?" Miles faltered.

"If you don't want to be with a waste, then leave."

"No, I didn't mean-"

"Leave." Tristan said, the hardness in his voice disarming.

Miles studied Tristan, looking for even a hint of softness in his eyes, but Tristan just continued to watch him with a cold glare. Slowly, Miles turned around and left, closing the door behind him. He walked towards his car, but instead of getting in he just went right past it, the insistent thoughts swirling around in his head making it impossible to sit still.

So he walked. He walked until the sun set and the night chill settled over him. Tristan's words echoed in his mind, his shadowy face etched in his brain. He needed to do something. Miles' gait picked up as he began to speed up until he was running. The night wind lashing out against his skin as he tore through the dark.

Miles slammed against the frame of the door, steadying himself against it as he rang the doorbell.

"Maya, I need your help."


	12. Chapter 12

"Um, yeah sure," Maya stuttered, surprised at the sudden intrusion. She watched Miles as he stormed in past her, pacing back and forth, still breathing heavily.

"What's going on Miles?"

"It's Tristan, he-well I don't really know what's wrong with him. He's been moody and distant and I thought he was mad at me but I don't think that's it. He just looks so…scary." Miles rushed out, his words tripping over one another, waving his hands for emphasis.

"Wait, slow down." Maya sat on the couch across from him.

"What's wrong with Tristan?"

Miles joined her, collapsing on the other side of the couch, his heart still beating rapidly against his chest.

"He's," Miles let out a shaky breath, his emotions suddenly surging over him like a tidal wave as his body began to recover.

"I don't know, he won't talk to me, but something is really wrong. Maybe he's sick or… ."

Miles looked away from Maya's prying eyes, swallowing the growing lump in his throat.

"You know, I did notice him acting weird at the Dot. Has he been eating?"

"What? Why wouldn't he be eating?"

Maya looked down, fidgeting with a loose strand at the end of her shirt, suddenly unsure.

"He, um, well, Tristan used to be bigger and he stopped eating to lose weight and he ended up in the hospital."

"Shit," Miles muttered, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, suddenly, all of the pieces falling into place. The moodiness, the weight loss. God how could he have been so blind! Tristan acting so weird around food, always being tired, how faint he was at the Dot. Scene after scene flashed before his eyes. Miles felt like he had just been hit with a ton of bricks. He looked up at Maya, a dazed expression splattered across his face.

"I'm an idiot, how did I not realize what was going on?"

"It's not your fault, you didn't know," Maya reached out to put a reassuring hand on his back.

Miles just shook his head, "I should've known."

After several minutes of tense silence, Miles sat up, a new, determined hardness in his eyes.

"So what do we do?"

"I'm not sure…maybe we could talk to his brother, he might be able to help," Maya offered.

"You want me to tell on him?" Miles asked dubiously.

"Miles, it's not like he snuck out or something, he could be really sick."

"Well he's not really sick, he's just not eating."

Maya let out an exasperated sigh, "Seriously Miles, do you not listen in health class? If his eating disorder has come back then he is sick."

"How will telling his family help?" Miles questioned, still unconvinced.

"Because he needs help, Miles."

Miles looked around the room, his eyes searching for an answer that wasn't there. He hadn't realized that he had gone quiet until his phone buzzed, startling him back to reality.

**I'm sorry about the fight :(. Can we talk? **

"Is it Tristan?" Maya asked, taking note of the small smile that was tugging at the corner of Miles' mouth.

Miles nodded, his gaze not leaving the screen as he typed back an answer.

**Meet you at ****our place. **

"I have to go," Miles stood up, shoving his phone back in his pocket.

Maya nodded as she followed him to the door, her expression unreadable.

"Thanks, um, thanks for your help."

"Anytime."

Maya watched as Miles rounded the corner before shutting the door behind her.

"What was that about?" Zig leaned against the entrance of the living room.

xxxxxxx

Miles' eyes scanned the shadowy fixtures shrouded by the night. He rubbed his arms, the cold air pricking at them, causing goosebumps. He sank into the swing, his legs sore from the night's journey. His mind was still reeling, simultaneously searching for answers and a distraction. However, only the creaking of the swing offered any variation to the deafening silence that only amplified his persistent thoughts.

"Since when is the park our place," a voice rang out cutting through the darkness.

Miles turned his head towards the figure nearing him, letting out a quiet exhale, not realizing that he had been holding in his breath.

"Well you knew where to go, so it must be." Miles smirked at Tristan as he sat down on the swing next to him.

"I didn't mean to get mad at you like that, can we just forget it and move on?"

Miles didn't respond, instead looking out at the dim road ahead, illuminated only by a distant streetlamp. He wished he could just get up and walk away from everything, from all of the hurt and pain and confusion and fear. Walk until he just disappeared into the dusk, but he couldn't leave Tristan behind. Miles looked back at Tristan, who was resting his head on the swing chain, sadly realizing that maybe it was Tristan who had already gone off into the darkness and left him behind.

"I can't forget it," Miles replied.

Tristan traced the outline of the chain links, "My parents are getting a divorce and I guess I haven't really been dealing with it well," he spoke, his words slow and labored, like each syllable carried a great weight.

"I'm so sorry Tris," Miles got up and walked over to Tristan, bending down to hug him. Tristan rested his head against his neck as he wrapped his arms around Miles' back. Miles pulled back slightly, moving his hands up to cradle Tristan's face.

"It'll be ok," Miles pressed his lips against Tristan's, pouring all of his worry and longing onto his lips. Miles pulled away, his nose brushing up against Tristan's.

"Wanna go?" Miles asked as he straightened up, offering Tristan his hand. Tristan nodded, gratefully accepting it. His knees shook as he stood up, which he quickly tried to cover up by offering Miles a shaky smile upon noticing the immediate concern on his face.

Tristan could feel that he was slipping away, his head growing light as they walked along the dimly lit road. He shook his head, willing himself to hold on until he got home.

"Tris?" Miles' voice drifted off in the distance, Tristan looked over at him, his face blurring. He stumbled forward, his hand slipping out of Miles'.

And then the world went black.


End file.
